Jeremy Ault | Trinity Fellow 2011-13 | by Wyatt Massey

CHICAGO – A weatherworn car eases into the parking lot of Faith United Presbyterian Church on a quiet Sunday morning in the suburb of Tinley Park. Jeremy Ault, with a thick brown beard and dark-framed glasses, steps out and stretches from a long drive.The lot is empty. Parish members will not arrive for hours, but Ault knows it is best to be early. He waits patiently with his wife Jamie. The pastor won’t even arrive for another 30 minutes.This is not Ault’s church home; that is more than 100 miles away in Milwaukee. Not as though he has been able to attend recently. He has visited 12 churches within the past two months.Each stop carries the same challenge: Convince people to donate money for strangers who live on the other side of the world. All of this must be conveyed in a two-minute speech. Visits without results are growing more significant, too.Ault heads international fundraising for Diaconia, a humanitarian aid organization based in Prague. At best, his job is insecure. If he cannot get U.S. donors, his position will be terminated. That is why Ault visits a different church each Sunday. Supporting his family depends on it. Not that he considers salary the most important part of his job. His mission has always been raising awareness about humanitarian issues and building community. Yet, the pay is becoming increasingly important, especially in the coming months. Jamie is eight-months pregnant. The two have been together since they met in college at Waynesburg University in Pennsylvania. They have traveled around the world, building communities and addressing poverty before Jeremy began the Trinity Fellows ProgramatMarquette University in 2011. The 21-month work-study program offered him a graduate degree and experience working in the nonprofit sector. These connections were invaluable for his fundraising role.“Through the Trinity Fellowship I met a lot of different executive directors through that education at Marquette who knew me and were willing to help me,” Ault said.This knowledge of Milwaukee got his office off to a successful start. However, he must continue to grow its presence. The lives of disenfranchised people in Eastern Europe, the need for fundraising success and the coming baby weigh on him during each presentation. They depend on his ability to inspire strangers to care about strangers who live on the other side of the world.Diaconia is part of the Evangelical Church of Czech Brethren. It is headquartered in Prague and funds projects that empower post-communist, eastern European countries.“We are the European expert in dealing with post-communist societies,” Ault said.The organization expanded in 2013, opening the American office. His job is to raise global awareness. If successful, it hopes to start humanitarian aid projects in the Western Hemisphere.For now, though, the entire American branch fits in a room rented from Plymouth Church United Church of Christ. Ault is the lone full-time employee and has a part-time assistant. His main job is meeting with potential donors. Although it is a labor-intensive process, it builds long-term relationships. This is Diaconia’s main fundraising strategy. Ault designs the U.S. website, maintains the donor database and translates documents from Czech to English. The two years spent working in the Czech Republic help him understand the nuances of the language.Had everything gone according to plan, though, Ault would not have joined Diaconia. He would not be visiting the parish of Faith United Presbyterian Church. He would not know Czech or have lived in the Czech Republic. Or have spent as much time in the Eastern Hemisphere.Ault had intended to join the Peace Corps and go to Jamaica after graduating in 2007 with a bachelor’s degree in history at Waynesburg University. As his departure date neared, however, he began weighing his options: Serving or marrying Jamie.The Peace Corps initially said the two could serve together. The couple later learned that this was not an option. Ault had a week to decide if he would go abroad.“At the very last minute, I got wet feet and decided to get married,” he said.The decision meant Ault would not go to Jamaica. It also meant he needed a job. His search ended when a Czech Brethren pastor learned that Jeremy and Jamie were both looking for international service positions and connected them with Diaconia. Within a year, they moved to the Czech Republic in 2008. Learning the language was their first challenge.“We just got a textbook and read through it,” Ault said. “We did it the hard way.”At Faith United Presbyterian, which serves an aging community, Ault speaks about hope. It is the same hope he spread in the Czech Republic. It is important to do good work in uncertain times, he said. It takes a community, one made up of people down the street and across the globe.Jeremy and Jamie continued their service work after returning to the United States in 2010. They joined the AmeriCorps VISTA program and moved to Erie, Pennsylvania. It is her hometown and 123 miles from his in Ambridge.Both places are deeply affected by poverty. Between 2009 and 2013, 16.9 percent of Erie County residents and 32 percent of Ambridge residents lived below the poverty line, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. Much of the poverty resulted from the 1980s downturn in the steel industry. Ault’s childhood made him more aware of the effects of economic depression. “I grew up in an area that had seen way better days,” he said. Despite the negative environment, he credits the area for shaping his character. It was a culture that valued hard work.Ault is a member of very competitive triplet brothers. “I’m the oldest, by two minutes,” he said.Neither of his parents attended college, but they emphasized education. So it seemed natural when Ault sought to continue his learning after his year in AmeriCorps VISTA.TheTrinity Fellows Program was the best offer for schools giving scholarships to AmeriCorps alumni, he said. The fellowship was a chance to engage with the city academically and professionally. Ault visited campus and met with Trinity director Carole Ferrara.He felt an immediate connection to Milwaukee and submitted his application. A letter from Marquette arrived weeks later. He had been wait-listed for the program. Crushed, Ault visited with Ferrara to thank her. He remembers sitting in her office, discussing what he thought to be the next stage of his life.“We essentially talked about what could have been,” Ault said.Each year, between 40 and 70 people apply for the 10 fellowships. Ferrara urged Ault to wait. He was high on the waiting list and there was a possibility he could still get in. Soon after, Ferrara called him. He had been accepted.“It all worked out,” Ferrara said. “He should’ve been in the Top 10 anyway.”Ferrara noticed Ault’s inclusive nature from his Trinity cohort’s first day.

“He immersed himself in this community,” she said.The program placed him with the Adult Learning Center as a transition specialist. He met with the organization’s partners, wrote the quarterly newsletter and took notes during board meetings.Herb Hayden, the center’s executive director, said the two pushed each other.“He was very important to me as a sounding board and knowing what was going on in the community,” Hayden said. “The students always had someone to talk to.”Ault noticed that the center’s students needed soft skills and résumé training. He responded by designing a two-week “boot camp” to practice networking and improve job prospects. Learning about Ault’s success was not surprising to Ferrara. She said it was a strength that only improved as his knowledge of the area grew.“He did outreach in a way that seemed easy,” she said. “He helped connect things.”Two years in graduate school also exposed Ault to the city’s music scene. Ault helped form The Delphines and now plays drums in NO/NO, made up of many of the old band members.When not working at the center or his side job of rock ‘n’ roll, Ault bicycled around the city and met members of the nonprofit sector. He shared his passion for the outdoors by volunteering at the Urban Ecology Center, which builds environmental awareness and commitment in neighborhoods. Connections such as this proved useful when Diaconia called in 2011.The organization wanted to open a U.S. office. Ault coordinated a two-week trip for 10 of its directors to visit Milwaukee and tour nonprofits. By the time Ault graduated with a master’s degree in global history, Diaconia had committed to fundraising in the United States. Familiar with its mission, fluent in Czech and experienced in community work, Ault was the top candidate to lead the office.

Two years later, Ault is the American representative. He couples direct experience and updates from Prague to explain Diaconia’s projects. It is difficult to build a donor base when Americans know little about the countries where aid is going, such as Georgia, Moldova and Myanmar. Ault alleviates this problem by engaging people’s passions. People are more likely to respond to a global need if it involves a topic they already care about, such as refugee aid or agriculture. But first, he needs an audience. He ends his presentation in Chicago in usual fashion, asking any intrigued parishioners to meet with him after the service to learn more. He is aware, though, that the probability of widespread interest is slim. “Sometimes we get three,” Ault said. “Sometimes we get nobody – and we go home.” This morning is different. Ault stays after the service for more than an hour. Around a basement table, eight parishioners ask about Diaconia’s work in Ukraine, its budget and how they can get involved. Their names and email addresses fill his information sheet.

Ault will contact them in several weeks to further the relationship.

It began with a two-minute speech, but this morning Ault brought strangers on opposite sides of the world a bit closer. It is a small step, he said, yet furthers both Diaconia and Ault’s mission of “trying to make community connections with like-minded people.”